The always wonderful Rebecca Nazar has been kind enough to bestow upon me the Honest Scrap Award. It seems she thinks I’m something of an enigma and it’s her way of demanding some honesty. Is that good or bad? I still can’t decide. She asked nicely though, so here goes.The Award and Rules:This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, brilliant.

The rules are as follows:

1. When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to the said person so everyone knows she/he is real.

2. Choose a minimum of 5 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have five friends. Show the five random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog. Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.

As I’m still pretty new to the world of blogging, I’m going to bend the rules a little and pass the honour on to just two poor, unfortunate souls who have been nice enough to comment on one of my stories out there in the land of the web.

My nominations are:

Inkpot – otherwise known as Iseult Murphy. She has a dark mind and I like that. She’s also a member of the Horror Writers Association and that is very cool.

1. When I was a kid there was no doubt in my mind that I’d be a writer when I grew up. No doubt at all; it was fact, pure and simple.

2. I’m obviously still waiting to grow up.

3. I used to think that tall, thin (I mean really tall, really thin) people lived in street lights and turned them on and off every day. What they did the rest of the time was something I never really worked out.

4. I once saw Humpty Dumpty on the roof of my neighbour’s house, sitting there plain as day with a huge grin on his face. I waved, and he waved back (Humpty that is, not the neighbour). Fact.

5. My dad died when I was twelve years old and I can still remember every single detail of that day.

6. When I was fifteen I had a long list of potential pen-names and I practiced a signature for every last one. L.R. Bonehill wasn’t among them.

7. I had a summer job in an undertaker’s. One of the first dead bodies I saw was a forty-something man who had died alone at home and had gone undiscovered for around three or four months. The sight and smell was... well, not very pleasant to say the least.

8. I spent around three weeks sleeping rough on a rail tour of Europe and was routinely kicked out of many a train station for sleeping on a bench or tucking myself away in a nice, comfy alcove. Never, ever again.

9. I’m a Sinatra nut.

10. Without fail, my children go to the bathroom at the same time. They stand either side of the toilet and pay not a jot of attention to what they’re doing. Is this normal?